Forget Me Not
by Waugh
Summary: While searching for the kitchens of the Elvenking, Bilbo Baggins makes a wrong turn. What he finds instead is wholly unexpected… (Pre-slash!)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Bilbo darted around the stone corridor, chest heaving. A light clatter of elven boots sounded off of the dank rock in the hallway behind him. He angled his head back, watching the company of guards pass. _That was too close_, he thought to himself.

It had been less than a week since the Company had been captured by the elves of Mirkwood. Less than a week since Bilbo had donned his invisibility ring and entered the Elvenking's palace in search of them. In that time, Bilbo had managed to find exactly two of the eleven who were captured. _And there is still no sign of Thorin._

The company of guards passed, the soft sounds of their footfalls disappearing into the distance. Bilbo let out a sigh of relief as he leaned against the corridor wall. The ring had been useful - without it he would have died at least a hundred times over by now! - but its invisibility did nothing to prevent others from hearing or touching him. The elves' habit of popping out of, sometimes_ literally_, nowhere, meant that Bilbo had to be almost constantly wary of discovery.

It was exhausting.

_But still, _Bilbo thought determined to cheer himself up, _my present accommodations are by far preferable to being eaten by spiders._ He just wished he could find a safe spot to sleep. And, perhaps, a table that was not quite so well-guarded.

As if on cue, Bilbo's stomach chose that moment to grumble. Cursing mentally, Bilbo pushed himself off of the wall and silently strode away. Elven ears were far too keen for his liking, and there was little sense in taking unnecessary chances.

Bilbo walked, and walked, and walked. Each corridor was much like the others, important rooms located almost haphazardly between them. It was almost astonishingly difficult to navigate. Bilbo thought he recognized the way to the kitchens, though, and took it.

Down one corridor, and then another. Through one wooden door, take a right, and then... A lavishly decorated room opened up in front of him, steam billowing up from a series of pools. Bilbo froze. This was not the kitchen.

A figure stirred in one of the pools, long sinuous arms reaching up, up, up, and then back down. Fingers knotted behind a silver-blond head, eyes closed, a peaceful smile lingering on elegant lips. Silken locks drifted lazily upon the water's surface.

It was the single most beautiful being Bilbo had ever seen.

The elf - for what else could the figure be? - appeared utterly content. It - he, Bilbo noted, darting a glance at his chest before wrenching his eyes away - was also completely naked, his modesty protected only by the steaming waters and the depth at which he lounged.

Bilbo was mortified. He let out the tiniest of squeaks, flushing a deep, bright red. The hobbit was never so thankful for his invisibility ring as in that exact moment.

The elf's eyes opened slowly, revealing brilliant pale blue orbs _- Forget Me Nots,_ Bilbo's inner gardener marveled - which hardened suspiciously. His hands unknotted, disappearing back down into the water. The elf's gaze drifted about the room.

Bilbo clumsily took one step backwards, fighting the urge to flee outright.

The elf, of course, noticed immediately. "I know you're there," he called in Westron. "Why do you linger in the shadows?" The elf's - _striking_ - eyes were still searching for an intruder.

Bilbo shivered at the sound of the elf's voice, panic surging through his veins. He had been detected! And was being addressed in _Westron!_ Did that mean that the elf could tell the intruder he was looking for was not one of his people? _How...? _The elf did not appear to _see_ him - the ring was still solidly on his finger -

Soft footsteps echoed on the stone walls behind him. Bilbo barely scrambled out of the way in time as the bath attendant appeared.

_"You called, my king?"_ the attendant asked in Sindarin.

The elf in the pool - the Elvenking! - frowned, his eyes making one last circuit of the room. He tilted his head slightly to one side. _"Yes. Bring me my robe, would you?"_

The attendant bowed deeply and left. Bilbo remained motionless, barely daring to breathe. She passed him without notice, much as before.

_So it is only the king, then, _Bilbo concluded in relief. He looked back towards the bathing elf, whose features were set in a pensive frown. It couldn't be particularly difficult, to avoid a king, Bilbo reassured himself.

Bilbo turned to follow the attendant; eager to escape the room, his humiliation, and the worrying perceptive and hauntingly beautiful Elvenking. He could almost feel the elf's gaze on his back as went.

* * *

I'm back! And I bring you a random shortfic. Heh. I blame this on the pool scene that's been popping up on Tumblr and DeviantArt. (link) This is probably a oneshot. Probably. I really need to start working on Back Again... Also! I have a Tumblr now. Feel free to bother me whenever.


	2. Chapter 1

Okay, story is a go. We're going primarily from bookverse, with some bits of movieverse thrown in. The rest will be stuff I made up to fill in the holes...

**Chapter 1**

It was some time before the hobbit caught another glimpse of the Elvenking.

Bilbo found it difficult to mark days or even weeks in the eternal gloom of the king's palace, but to his hobbit-sense it seemed as if two weeks had passed since the dwarves' capture. In that time, he had located twelve of the dwarves.

Bilbo had taken to loitering near the guards' station, hoping to hear further news of Thorin. The location of the dwarves' king-in-exile, it seemed, was a fiercely kept secret even among the elves.

The time had been good for the dwarves, Bilbo could tell. Though they often complained of their capture bitterly and at length, they had started to regain much of their lost weight. If they had not been captured... if they had not been captured, then they most likely have all died. If not from the spiders or the other dangers of the forest, then from simple starvation.

Bilbo felt a depth of gratitude for the elves' rescue that would have astonished the dwarves, had they heard of it. He was grateful, too, for what sips of wine and mouthfuls of bread he could steal - to say nothing of the sacks of flour that he had taken to napping on. They were by far preferable to his earlier accommodations in the forest!

_I am a proper burglar now_, the hobbit thought to himself ruefully. His old self - as he had taken to calling the hobbit he had been only a few short months ago - would have been both astounded and dismayed at the change. It seemed as if years had gone past since the old wizard Gandalf had appeared at his doorstep.

Yes, Bilbo had changed. Since he had left his hobbit hole he had matched wits with trolls, defeated a cave creature in a game of riddles and won a magical ring in the bargain, escaped through the goblin kingdom, and saved his newfound friends from spiders. How his mother would be proud!

His next step would be rescuing the dwarves. If only he could find Thorin!

Bilbo thought he had gotten his wish when a new elf entered the guards' room, asking as to the whereabouts of their captain.

_"She is guarding the prisoner now, Prince Legolas,"_ one of the attendants replied, rising from his desk.

The prince's brows furrowed. He did not look much like his father, thought Bilbo. Save, perhaps his eyes... They were the same exact shade of blue. _He must take after his mother. _Bilbo had not yet seen her, so he could not say for certain.

_"Has she forgotten, then?"_ the prince queried._ "We are to hunt, today. Tauriel is to ride at father's left, as always. Send someone to fetch her, will you?"_

_"At once, my prince,"_ the attendant answered.

_'The' prisoner?_ Bilbo wondered to himself for a moment. When discussing the dwarves, the guards had always addressed them as such... Bilbo felt a sudden burning hope.

Bilbo waited until the captain of the guards arrived, and then followed her out of the room and through the halls of the palace. They arrived in a large hall, directly before the gates. There a group of twenty or so elves waited, sitting astride their horses.

The Elvenking was among them. He was dressed in a simple green tunic, with his grey leggings tucked neatly into his leather boots. His cloak was made of dark wool, and was tightly fastened upon his right shoulder with a wooden brooch. Upon his head he wore a crown of berries and red leaves, woven into the twisted strands of vines. His staff of carven oak he carried across his back in the place of a bow, and at his side hung a sword.

Bilbo swallowed, keeping near to the walls. He still did not know by what magic the king had been able to detect him before, and feared his discovery. In a place with so many elves he would have some difficulty escaping, even if the others could not see him with their own eyes.

The hobbit's gaze lingered on the Elvenking for a long moment before he wrenched it away to search for the guard's captain.

He found the red-haired she-elf standing next to the prince. A mount had been acquired for her, and she leapt upon its back with the otherworldly grace that Bilbo had begun associating with all her kind.

The Elvenking nodded his head and gestured with one hand. The great doors swung open, and the company of elves began riding through.

Bilbo sucked in a breath of dismay at their speed, and, hurrying as fast as he could, threw himself at the cavern's entrance. He crossed the threshold a hair's breadth behind the last elf, and the doors snapped shut on his heels. He was out!

Before him lay the river and the bridge and, beyond that, the forest itself. The elves quickly crossed the bridge, disappearing into Mirkwood's eternal twilight. He was alone.

Bilbo wrung his hands. _What ever did I do that for!?_ he demanded of himself. He could hardly escape the forest alone, and, even if he could, he had no desire to abandon the dwarves to their fates. Bilbo had a brief, desperate idea to find Gandalf and get the old wizard to ask for the Elvenking's pardon, but he had no idea where the wizard could have gone to.

And so Bilbo waited, cold, hungry and miserable, for the elves to return.

However long that would be.

Hours passed, and what little light was cast by the moon only served to unnerve Bilbo further. He spent most of his time there fitful and afraid - of spiders, of elves, of whatever creatures made the bizarre calls that occasionally echoed through the forest, but most of all he feared the creeping shadows that hissed at him from the other side of the river. Some strange elven magic prevented them from crossing the bridge, and he had nearly quaked in terror at the thought of it failing.

But terror was exhausting, especially after the midnight hours, and eventually he had slipped into a light doze. It was the clamor of hooves over stone that roused him, and Bilbo quickly stirred to wakefulness. Thankfully, the hissing creatures had fled - though whether it was due to the return of the hunting party or because they had grown tired of the whole affair, Bilbo did not know.

He watched the party of elves cross the bridge: the king, the prince and the captain all rode together at the front, the rest of the elves forming a procession behind them. _Their hunt was a successful one, it seems_, Bilbo noted. Judging by the collection of antlers, the elves had taken at least several stags. Their packhorses were newly laden with heavily wrapped parcels - doubtlessly the freshly butchered deer meat.

_There surely will be a feast tomorrow,_ Bilbo thought, moving himself out of the way of the horses. Sure enough, the doors to the Elvenking's palace swung open upon their approach. Bilbo once more darted in alongside the last rider, again escaping the heavy doors.

The elves whirled around the cavernous room, laughing gaily and singing merrily as they dismounted from their horses. Attendants arrived, taking the mounts of some, while others tended to their own. The yellow torchlight flickered cheerfully over the gathering, causing Bilbo to slide deeper into the shadows.

The Elvenking stood apart from the merriment, the smallest of smiles upon his lips. His face and clothing had been dirtied during the course of the hunt and his silver hair now hung wildly about his shoulders, entangled with bits of broken twigs and stray leaves. He looked_... real_ now, and kind, instead of the ethereal vision from before. Far from detracting from the elf's charm, Bilbo found that it made him all the more enthralling.

The king gazed long upon the gathering, though his eyes did not linger on any of his subjects in particular. He spoke but briefly to one of his servants, and then he gripped his oaken staff in one hand and tapped it against the ground, tilting his silver head to the side. With that strange benediction, he strode off, disappearing down one of the corridors.

Bilbo watched him leave. The hobbit felt utterly ridiculous in his fascination: the very idea that a such a great elf, and a married one at that if his son was any clue, would look twice at one such as he was laughable - as well it should be! But Bilbo's admiration was a small thing, in the end. He dared not to approach the king again, not after the near discovery that concluded his accidental bout of voyeurism (the memory of that incident still mortified him), but was quite content to marvel at him from afar.

No harm would come of it, Bilbo was certain, save perhaps that he would find some small joy in this place. And he would use all the joy he could find at the moment.

Bilbo sighed inaudibly, drifting from the shadow of one pillar to that of another. The captain of the guards was lingering in the great room, talking to the prince, and the hobbit aimed to follow her for as long as he could. If he was lucky, then perhaps she would return to guarding 'the prisoner' once more.

Eventually, the elf broke away from the group, heading down one of the corridors. Carefully, Bilbo followed.

_This is not the way to the guards' station,_ the hobbit noted with a frown. In fact, she seemed to be heading for the cellars... _They wouldn't hold prisoners _there_, would they?_ Bilbo wondered in incredulity.

Another elf, Bilbo believed that he recognized him as the king's butler, greeted the captain. She laughed and kissed him, the two of them opening the door to a small cellar. Giggling, they both disappeared behind it, shutting it firmly behind them.

Bilbo raised both his eyebrows at the sight. He blinked several times. _Are they really -_ he thought in astonishment -_ couldn't they have - well, I suppose they _do _have a room, even if not one intended for such activities..._ he frowned at the idea, making a face.

Even if his suspicions were not in any way correct, propriety still kept him from lingering and so instead the hobbit took to exploring the cellars. There, he found the answer to the question he had been dreading.

The great doors, it seemed, were_ not _the only means of entering or leaving the Elvenking's palace. _There is a waterway!_ Bilbo marveled, staring down at the trapdoors and the barrels all around.

He grinned. All he had to do now was find Thorin. He already knew exactly how the Company would be able to make its escape.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

* * *

Yeah, book!Thranduil is far less fabulous... He is, however, far more awesome from a character standpoint. And, bookshipping. It is a thing. So, there will be Tauriel/Galion in this, for those of you who were horribly offended by the second movie. There will also be Tauriel/Galion in Back Again, when we get to that part (for those of you who read Back Again, I don't know.)

Edit: the second half of this was going to be chapter two, but it didn't turn out to be as much of a scene break as I was intending... So you instead you get this :D.


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